she has plenty to eat now; and another pair of
shoes, when she has danced her toes out of those she has on. And
mamma?--why, she can sit whole hours with her hands folded, if she
likes, and go to sleep whenever she feels tired; for she has earned
plenty of money for herself, and little Floy, too. Floy is glad of
this, because mamma smiles now, and looks happier--and because all her
old friends, who forgot all about her when she was poor, are so
_delighted_ now whenever they meet her. Floy thinks it is very nice all
round. Dear, innocent little Floy!

THE LAKE TRIP;

OR,

GOING A FISHING.

Oh! Aunty, it has done raining! The sun is shining _so_ brightly; we
are going to the Lake to fish--Papa says so--you and Papa, and Bell,
and Harry, and Emma, and Agnes, and our dog Bruno.

Of course, Aunty, who was always on hand for such trips, wasn't five
minutes springing to her feet, and in less than half an hour Pat stood
at the door with the carriage, (that somehow or other always held as
many as wanted to go, whether it were five, or forty-five;) "Papa"
twisting the reins over hats and bonnets with the dexterity of a Jehu;
jolt--jolt--on we go, over pebble stones--over plank roads--past
cottages--past farms--up hill and down, till we reach "the Lake."

Shall I tell you how we tip-toed into the little egg-shell boats? How,
after a great deal of talk, we all were seated to our minds--how each
one had a great fishing rod put into our hands--how Aunty, (who never
fished before,) got laughed at for refusing to stick the cruel hook
into the quivering little minnows used for "bait"--and how, when they
fixed it for her, she forgot all about moving it round, so beautiful
was the "blue above, and the blue below," until a great fish twitched
at her line, telling her to leave off dreaming and mind her
business--and how it made her feel so bad to see them tear the hook
from the mouth of the poor fish she was so UN-lucky as to catch, that
she coaxed them to put her ashore, telling them it was pleasure not
pain she came after--and how they laughed and floated off down the
Lake, leaving her on a green moss patch, under a big tree--and how she
rambled all along shore gathering the tiniest little shells that ever a
wave tossed up--and how she took off her shoes and stockings and dipped
her feet in the cool water, and listened to the bees' drowsy hum from
the old tree trunk close by, and watched the busy ant stagger home,
under th